


Words of love you whisper soft and true

by RedWritingHood



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Magic, of course it's magic there's no way this is happening otherwise, terms of endearment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 20:56:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20216167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedWritingHood/pseuds/RedWritingHood
Summary: "What did you just call me," Red Robin says."You've lost the remains of your mind, sunshine," Red Hood says. Then, "What the hell?"





	Words of love you whisper soft and true

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted it, don't look at me
> 
> Title from "Words of Love" by Buddy Holly.

Red Hood staggers upright, coughing. "Hate magic," he wheezes. The air crackles faintly with the aftermath of sorcery.

"Join the club," Red Robin mutters. He raises his voice. "Anyone hurt?"

  
"I'm fine," Nightwing says.

  
Robin scoffs. "You ought to know better than to ask such pointless questions, darling."

  
Silence descends like an anvil.

  
"What did you just call me," Red Robin says.

  
"You've lost the remains of your mind, sunshine," Red Hood says. Then, "What the hell?"

  
"Something very weird is going on," Nightwing says.

  
Red Hood makes a strangled sound. "Gee, dollface, _you think?_"  
_________

Tim glances up, cradling his coffee mug as Dick takes a seat at the table. "'Morning, dear."

  
"Hello, sweetheart," Dick replies, steeling Tim's coffee right out of his hands. He takes a sip, and makes a face. "Does this have any sugar at all? Even a drop of cream?"

Nope" Tim says, blandly. "Pure black, like my soul."

  
"At least you admit it," Jason says, walking through the door to grab a chair for himself. "Pass me the sweetener, will ya, darlin'?" He stops, glares down at the table as if attempting to set fire to it through the sheer force of his resentment. ". . . I hate magic."

  
"Well, it's growing on me," Dick says, grinning, as Tim hands over a packet of sweetener.

  
"That's because you're a sadistic son of a branmuffin," Jason says.

  
Silence as they stare at him.

  
He grimaces, fist clenching. "Oh, come on! I can't even swear anymore?!"

  
"That's amazing," Dick says, because he's a dick. Then, "Has anyone seen Dami?"

  
Tim shakes his head. "He's been hiding in his room, ever since he tried to curse you out and called you 'beloved' instead."

  
Dick hums. "I'll have to do something about that. He shouldn't be cooped up inside all day."

  
Tim gets up. "Well, you'll have to do it without me. I've got cases to catch up on." He heads to the door, then pauses. "'Son of a branmuffin'," he chuckles, and slips out of the room before Jason can throw something at him. Preferably something heavy. Nothing too big, of course. Just enough to give him a small concussion. That's all.

  
"You're tearing the tablecloth," Dick says.

  
Jason glances down at the fabric and lets go. He delicately straightens it, his expression smoothing over.

  
Dick takes one look at him and immediately says, "Honeybunch, no."

  
Jason says, "Just try and stop me, fudgeface."


End file.
